


Two Characters In Search Of An Exit

by Devilbaby



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Crack, Gen, M/M, Meta, Meta-crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-17 13:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilbaby/pseuds/Devilbaby
Summary: Written for the Prompt: "Fic in which Holmes and Watson can hear the author's narration and argue with them over plot details, only for misfortune to befall them as punishment for questioning the author's omnipotence."Sherlock Holmes and his venerable Boswell have had their characters kidnapped by an over-zealous fanfic writer who has many sexy plans for them...but the boys have other ideas. Can they escape the story with their dignity (and friendship) intact?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One of my very earliest fics, written all the way back in early 2010, in they heyday of the original SHkinkmeme on LJ. As such some of the jokes are dated and it lacks the polish I like to think my later work has developed but I've always liked it and thought it was a good novice effort, so here it is in perpetuity. If nothing else it's a good example of how far one can come with practice. (Written in dialog form because I had no idea how to form a coherent narrative.)

_Watson awoke with a start._

 

"Holmes, where are we?"

"We would appear to be in a cupboard."

"What are we doing in a cupboard?"

"I don't know. Weren't we on some sort of a case? I seem to remember you'd been shot again."

I don't think so. Last I recall you'd been kidnapped by Lord Blackwood and I was coming to rescue you-"

"Wait-who's Lord Blackwood?"

"You know, I'm not sure."

"Hmm, fascinating. So I've been kidnapped by a Lord, and shut up in a cupboard?"

"Seems so, yes."

"So how did you get here?"

"I don't know. Didn't you see me come in?"

"No."

 

_Holmes was relieved to find his best friend in the world alive and unhurt._

 

"Who is that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Get off me. Didn't you hear that?"

"Sorry. Hear what?"

"That voice."

"You're hearing voices?"

"Don't look at me like that, Holmes. I heard a voice, I tell you."

"Very well. And what did this voice say?"

"It sounded as though it were...narrating."

"Narrating what?"

"You."

"Ridiculous."

 

_If anything were ever to happen to Watson, Holmes didn't know what he would do..."_

 

"There it is again-stop that!"

"I'm sorry, Watson. It's just that if anything were ever to happen to you, I don't know what I would do."

"Holmes, I think we should leave. Now"

 

_The door would not open._

 

"Watson, this door will not open."

"Yes, I know. Have you tried the windows?"

"What windows? Watson, we are in a cub-oh. The room has gotten larger."

"Noticed that, did you?"

"Say, do you suppose this could be some sort of drug induced hallucination?"

"And both hallucinating the same thing? I doubt it."

"Mass hysteria?"

"I don't feel hysterical. Do you?"

"No. Think I'll just try that window now."

 

_The windows are sealed shut._

 

"It would appear the windows are sealed shut."

"You don't say."

"No matter, we can always just break the glass-"

 

_The glass is shatterproof!_

 

"Don't bother; it's shatterproof."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means she won't let us leave."

"Who?"

"The architect of this...madness. Can't you hear her?"

"No."

"You're lucky. She's rubbish."

 

_Watson falls to the floor, unconscious._

 

"Oh dear."


	2. Chapter 2

_some time later..._

 

"Ah, good. You're awake."

"I think so. Are we still in the cupboard?"

"Regrettably, yes."

"Then I'm awake. What happened?"

"You fell to the floor, unconscious."

"Why would I do that?"

"You were insulting our anonymous hostess."

"Oh. What happened to the windows?"

"She took them away. She's cross with you."

"I can't hear her anymore."

"No, but I can."

"So now you can hear her and I can't?

"It would appear so, yes. And you're right."

"About what?"

"She's rubbish."

*  
*  
*

"Watson, I think it's your line." 

"Sorry, I was waiting for you to fall over." 

"Sorry to disappoint." 

 

_Watson couldn't help notice how beautiful Holmes looked in the light from the fireplace..._

 

"You know, Holmes, I couldn't help but notice..." 

"Watson! Not. Another. Word. I beg you." 

"But i was just saying-"

"Stop it! Hush!" 

"Mhet gor hman oph mgh ouph" 

"What?" 

"I said 'Get your hand off my mouth'." 

"Oh, sorry." 

"I was just saying I couldn't help but notice a fireplace just appeared in the room."

 

_and he reached up to touch his friend's cheek in a soft caress..._

 

"Watson! Stay back!" 

"Holmes, put that chair down." 

"And YOU madam, cease and desist in your malicious schemes!"

"Holmes, you're addressing the ceiling." 

"I am addressing a vile and wanton temptress! My dear woman, I don't know who you are but this is all patiently ridiculou-ow!" 

"I say Holmes, are you all right?" 

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. I seem to have ruptured my spleen is all." 

"WHAT?!" 

"No - it's back together now." 

"Holmes, this is madness."

 

_Watson was so happy his friend was alive..._

 

"Um, Watson...could you put me down please?" 

"What? Oh, yes. There. I do apologize, I don't know what came over me." 

"I can't imagine."

 

_...he smiled at him fondly and led him over to the bed..._

 

"Bed, what bed? I thought we were in a cupboard." 

"Ah, Holmes. At the risk of sounding mad, it would seem a bed has just appeared in the corner." 

"Watson don't be ridiculous, beds do not simply-oh. Well then." 

"Its ah, rather small..." 

"...and pink" 

"Are those manacles?!" 

"I rather think we should be leaving" 

"I rather agree with you."

 

_...AND LED HIM OVER TO THE BED..._

 

"Let go of my hand!" 

"I'm trying! She's in my head again!"

 

_When he reached the spot where they would consummate their love, Watson paused, staring at Holmes and looking into his soft, brown eyes..._

 

"Brown? Holmes, your eyes aren't-oh wait. Yes they are." 

"I say Watson, are you standing on a box? You've suddenly gotten quite tall. And a good deal younger."

 

_..eyes that were misted over with unshed tears of deep emotion._

 

"Are you...are you crying?" 

"...no." 

"Yes you are." 

"Well it's hardly _my_ fault."

 

_Watson's heart ached for his poor friend..._

 

"Ack!" 

"Are you all right? You've gone rather pale." 

"I do wish she'd stop using metaphors like that. It's terribly uncomfortable."

 

_...their true love knew no bonds._

 

"Good God madam, it's 'bounds'! True love knows no bounds!" 

"Watson, don't encourage her..." 

"Holmes I am a tolerant man, and I can put up with a great deal. But I will not suffer the mangling of the English language! Certianly not by some untutored hackeneyed yank!"

 

_Suddenly, the old bullet wound in his leg flared up..._

 

"OW! What the hell's wrong with my leg?" 

"I though you'd been shot in the shoulder?" 

"I was!" 

"Here, sit down and compose yourself. We must remain rational." 

"Rational?! Holmes, we are trapped in a room with magically appearing beds and disappearing windows being forced to engage in any number of ridiculous antics all for the base amusement of some depraved lunatic with bad grammar and an excessive love of exclamation marks-

 

_The beauty of Holmes naked body struck Watson dumb!!!_

 

"Watson?" 

"..." 

"Watson?" 

"..." 

"Well, thank you for that. It's the first helpful thing you've done so far. But might I have my clothes back? It's rather chilly in here."


	3. Chapter 3

_Eventually, the doctor stirs._

 

"Holmes, how long have I been-why are you naked?"

"Our mysterious warden seems to think you would enjoy it."

"I beg your pardon?"

"She appears to be under the impression we're ah, inverts."

"You're joking."

"I'm naked."

"Good point. Well, I have to say, I've always found you far more fetching in your dressing gown."

"You _what?!_ "

"Wait for it."

 

_Holmes appeared before Watson, clad in the tattered old bathrobe he knew the doctor loved so much._

 

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. So what now?"

"I believe she expects us to perform."

"You mean like-"

"Yes."

"Holmes, that is the most disturbing thing I've ever heard you say."

"I fear we may have very little choice in the matter."

 

_Holmes started to remove his robe, revealing his huge, pulsing eructation..._

 

 _"Brrraaaaaaaaaaap!_ Pardon me."

"Holmes, that's disgusting. You're cleaning that up.

"Blame the author."

"I think she meant to say-"

"Watson, SHUT UP!"

 

_...while the doctor moved to his writing desk, eager to find the small bottle of oil he kept secreted there._

 

"Now what is my desk doing here-oh, now really, this is getting out of hand."

"I don't know what your complaining about. You've still got your clothes."

"Don't give her ideas. I'd like to keep them."

 

_Watson returned to his beloved's side, pausing to place a gentle kiss on his lips..._

 

"OW! Damn Holmes, what'd you hit me for?"

"Preemptive strike. You didn't hear the author. I did."

"So you hit me? With a serving tray?"

"Trust me. It's better this way."

 

_Watson found himself extremely aroused by the exquisite feeling of pain._

 

"Then again, perhaps not."

"Holmes..."

"Yes, I heard. Just try to stay calm."

"Holmes!"

"A bit more calm than that, if you please."

**"HOLMES!"**

 

_Watson flung himself into his lover's arms as they fell tumbling onto the bed..._

 

"Ah, good. I thought she'd never get us to the bed."

"What-why did you want us on the bed?"

"So I could do _this_!

"Did you...did you just chain me to the bedpost?!"

"I'm sorry Watson. It was the only way. You're not master of yourself."

"Neither are you!"

"True. Which is why I shall take the other manacle and secure myself to the far side of the room."

"That's absurd! Look, can't you figure another way out of this? You're the brilliant detective."

"I might. If I didn't have to worry about fending off your unwanted advances."

"My advances? You're the one with the pulsing-"

"Don't say it!"

"I think this is all a bit much."

"It's hardly the first time we've been chained up somewhere."

"It's not the chains, Holmes. Well, it's not _just_ that. It's the chains, the magic furniture, the terrible dialog...remind me to write all this down later and see if it sounds as insane on paper as it does in my head. God, I need a drink."

"What did you say?"

"I said I need a drink."

"No, no. Go back. The other thing."

"Oh, you mean about writing it all down?"

"Yes...Yes! Watson you're brilliant, that's it!"

"What?"

"YOU!"

"Me?"

"You're a writer! You can get us out of here!"

"How?"

"It appears that within the confines of this room, reality is malleable. It can be molded, sculpted. Taken in the hand and kneaded-

"Ah, Holmes, mind you hands."

"Oh! Sorry. I'll just ah, stand over here, shall I?"

I think that would be best, yes. You were saying?

"Reality is malleable. Our mysterious hostess seems to fancy herself a writer - if her abominable prose is anything to go by - and is able to manipulate it through the power of words, so-"

"-so perhaps I can as well?"

"Precisely! have you a pen?"

"Yes, right here"

 

_THERE WERE NO PENS IN THE ROOM_

 

"Oh. It's gone now."

"That's not fair!"


	4. Chapter 4

"I do wish you'd stop yelling at the ceiling."

"Quick, what else have we to write with?"

"Charcoal from the fire?"

"Blood! We can write in blood. Here, give me your arm-"

"Let go of me you damned lunatic."

"Watson, I need your blood!"

"I need it far more than you. Use your own."

"Humph. You are a very niggardly friend."

"Oh, quit sulking."

"I don't sulk."

"Yes you do."

 

_Holmes silenced his lover with a passionate kiss..._

 

"Oof! You didn't have to kick me quite so hard."

"What else could I do? You threw yourself at me and I can't move my hands."

"Did you have to aim for the chest?"

"Better than being hit over the head with a tray."

"That's debatable."

"Better than being passionately kissed, then."

"There is that."

"You know, that was an impressive stream of dialogue we got through on that last page. She hardly interrupted us at all."

"You were in a lustful frenzy and I had just chained you to the bed. I suspect she felt interruption counterproductive."

"Well as I'm feeling better, would you mind unlocking me?"

"I can't."

"What, don't you have a key?"

"Not anymore."

"Lock-picks?"

"Sorry."

"Well what the hell am I supposed to do chained to a bed?"

 

_Watson bucked against the restraints, the anticipation of his lovers hands on his firm, taunt-_

 

"NO ONE ASKED YOU, YOU PERNICIOUS TART!"

"Careful, Watson. You'll only make things worse."

"Worse? How could it get any worse? I'm shackled to a bedpost at the mercy of a madwoman and-

 

_The doctor was unable to finish his sentence as hypothermia set in._

 

"A-a-a-an-and..."

"Well, I did warn you."

"W-w-wh-wh..."

"Fascinating. You're suffering from all the classic symptoms of hypothermia, and it isn't even cold."

"G-g-g-going t-to k-k-k-k-kill..."

"Hush now, you're using entirely too many dashes. Here, get under the covers."

 

_Holmes had no choice but to warm him with his own body heat!_

 

"What do you mean, 'no choice'? There's a fireplace right here."

 

_The fire would not start._

 

"Humph. I doubt you'll do anything rash. His death would defeat the purpose of our being here, wouldn't it? I could just leave him."

 

_Holmes couldn't bear the thought of leaving his friend's side._

 

"Damn."

 

_Giving him NO CHOICE but to-_

 

"Yes, I heard the first time. You are a woman of one idea, aren't you? Oh, very well then. Watson, scoot over..."


	5. Chapter 5

_...time passes..._

 

"All right, Holmes. How long this time?"

"Not sure, a few days maybe?"

"A few days?! And our captor?"

"Not sure; seems to have temporarily lost interest."

"So she just...left us here?"

"It would appear so, yes."

"That's almost insulting. How do you know it's temporary?"

"We're still here."

"Good point. So what have you been doing?"

"Same as you; nothing."

"Nothing!? Holmes, we're trapped in this God-forsaken nightmare of a landscape-"

"Ho, she's back."

"How do you know?"

"Her prose is abhorrent."

"What?"

"And she likes writing you on the edge of hysteria."

"Ah, yes. I had noticed that."

 

_Holmes leaned over to nibble on his lovers' ear..._

 

"Ow! Watson, you've a very hard head."

"I'd have used my fist if you hadn't locked me up. Stay away from my ears!"

"I only shackled one of your wrists to the bed, she's responsible for the other. I shall have a black eye in the morning."

"Serves you right for giving her ideas."

"I was trying to keep us separated until I could formulate an escape plan!"

"Thought of anything yet?"

"No. I suspect she's deliberately writing me stupid."

"Oh, bloody hell. Look, couldn't we just...blow something up?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Anything. Isn't that what we usually do in a bind?"

"Hmm...well, the idea is strangely appealing. Of course, we'll need the proper materials...Watson!"

"Holmes?"

"Have I ever told you about my predilection for gun-play?"

"Y-Your what?!"

"Guns, Watson. Think of all the things you can _do_ with them."

"Well, I did pistol whip a man once..."

"I meant sexually, Watson."

"What?! I-you-Holmes, you're scaring me."

"Those long barrels..."

"Please don't come any closer."

"That gleaming steel..."

"Ah, Holmes-"

"Have you ever played sexual roulette?"

"HOLMES!"

 

_A gun appears in Holmes' hand!!!!_

 

"And the bullets, Watson. Think of all places you can put black powder bullets!"

"Black pow-oh! Oh, yes! I mean, ah...yes. I see your point. Ahem-WELL, THAT SOUNDS INTRIGUING, HOLMES. I AM, AH...INTRIGUED.

 

_A loaded gun appears in Holmes' hand!!!!_

 

"Of course, what we could really use are some candles..."

"Candles? Oh, right...umm...candles. You know, seeing as how we're confiding in each other I must say, I've always had a bit of a thing for candles."

"Have you now?"

"Oh yes! Just ah, think of all the fun you can have with melted wax..."

 

_A number of lit candles appear around the room ALKSD;JFIOASDMF!!!!_

 

"Good, good. Now Watson, as you've no doubt guessed I like to watch. So, you get yourself ready and I'll just go over HERE by the DOOR with my GUN and WATCH YOU."

"Watch me do what?"

"You're the one who likes candles."

"Holmes!"

"Look, it doesn't matter. Just so long as we're _both_ watching _you_."

"Well what am I supposed to do with my hands tied?"

 

_Watson's hands were suddenly free!_

 

"All right. Hmm...well, I suppose I could...I mean, how much does a little melted wax hurt anyway-OW! **_Jesus Christ!_** Do people actually DO this to themselves?!"

"Jolly good, Watson. I'm quite aroused. Keep going."

"You're not even paying attention!"

"Of course I am! Pip, pip!"

"I hate you!"

"I know! Just keep her distracted a bit longer!"

"I shall keep her distracted by describing precisely what you may do with this candle!"

"That's the spirit!"

"Holmes, this is madness! I am coming over there and-"

**"WATSON! GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR!"**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly encourage everyone to read Sal's dialog in the voice of Eddie Izzard. That is all.

"Watson."

"Yes?"

"What happened?"

"I think you blew a hole in the story."

"Did I? How?"

"Black powder and a lit candle, if I'm not mistaken."

"I see. Watson?"

"Holmes?"

"Did we...I mean, did that woman-"

"No, no. I think she's gone now. That is, I can't hear her anymore. You?"

"No. But then why am I lying on top of you?"

"Shielded me from the blast is all. Thank you."

"Your welcome. Are you sure she's gone?"

"Well, you're wearing clothes again, and the bed's disappeared."

"Yes, but so has the fireplace."

"You sound disappointed."

"I've always been fond of a good blaze."

"Well that's-Holmes, do you hear tapping?"

"Seems to be coming from the window."

"Oh, are they back then?"

"Hmm, I'd better have a look...Watson, there is a barn outside with a note tied to it's leg-"

"Barns don't have legs."

"This one does. With a note. And it's quite eager to get inside."

"It must be a misprint. I think it's supposed to read 'a barn _owl_ is outside'." 

"I think you're right. Yes, that's much better. So, a barn owl is outside with a note tied to its leg and you know, this dialogue is really quite tedious. Why must I always be stating the obvious?"

"Oh just let the damn thing in and how do you think I feel? I've never cursed so much in my life."

"Well, the windows are unstuck at least...oh, come here you stupid bird and-ow! It bit me!"

"Shouldn't have insulted it. What's the note say?"

"'Notice of Eminent Domain. 

Attention: This story has been confiscated. Let it be known that the author has been instructed to cease and desist by order of the Higher Inspirations and her Muse taken into custody for crimes against fiction in accordance with the laws of Good Taste. We shall be taking control of this reality for the interim, and are pleased to inform you we shall have you back to your respective story lines as soon as we are able to locate the corresponding authors. In the mean time, please relax and enjoy our complimentary bar services located in the main restaurant of your bathroom. We apologize for the inconvenience. 

Mary Suesumee,  
Character Relations Department'" 

"Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

**"It means - hello, doctor. Detective; a pleasure - it means everything is about to be sorted out!"**

"Holmes?"

"Yes?"

"Did that penguin just speak to us?"

"It would appear so, yes."

"Are you quite certain?"

"As certain as one can be of anything in this place."

"Oh good. I thought perhaps it was just me."

"Perhaps that blast knocked us both a bit silly."

**"Not at all gentlemen. I assure you, you are both quite sane."**

"Who are you, and why do you look like a penguin?"

**"Ah, well. That's all rather a long story, detective. Let us begin by saying this is my Aspect, and I'm the chap that's been looking for you these past four days."**


	7. Chapter 7

"Four days? We've been here _four days_?"

**"Oh yes, doctor. You're quite lucky she's not more prolific. We were growing quite discouraged, you know. But your authors were most insistent that we find you."**

"Our authors?"

**"Yes. It's not often we have characters go missing, but it does happen. And when it does, it falls under my jurisdiction.**

"And you are?"

**"You may call me Sal."**

"Very well, Sal. I think you should start from the beginning."

**"As you wish, detective. Ahem. In the beginning there was darkness-"**

"Not quite that far back."

**"I see. Shall we skip to New Testament?"**

"Perhaps we should skip to four days ago."

**"Ah yes. Well, about four days ago, one of our more ah, impulsive authors - lovely girl really, but a touch on the enthusiastic side - had been guided by one of the lesser Inspirations to write a pastiche of the Sherlock Holmes fandom-"**

"I'm sorry; pastiche?"

**"Fiction, derivative work, tribute. You're quite a popular subject, you know. Particularly since the latest movie."**

"What's movie?"

**"Never mind, unimportant. But as I was saying, a pastiche had been commissioned but unfortunately the Holmes and Watson assigned to this particular author had to cancel due to a scheduling conflict, and as her replacement couple was on back order rather than wait for them she ah...well, she sort of, um...borrowed you."**

" _Borrowed_ us?"

**"Yes. Pulled you from your respective fictions and placed you here. Made a terrible mess of things, you know. Left two perfectly respectable stories hanging unfinished. Threw the entire meme into chaos."**

"What, people can do that?"

**"Well, it is frowned upon. It's terribly inconsiderate-"**

"I should say so!"

**"-to the other authors. Not to mention their readers, who then have to wait for the characters' return..."**

"I'm confused."

**"Of course you are; this sort of thing really isn't supposed to be done. Every author must start with a fresh template. Ripping characters out of their fixed plot lines causes an Imaginary imbalance. Cracks! begin appearing all over the meme and the stories get all jumbled up and start falling into each other."**

"Ah sorry; was that supposed to clear things up?"

"Sal?"

**"Yes detective?"**

"What are you?"

**"Ah, now there's the question. I'm a Muse."**

"Muse?"

**"Well, not _her_ muse, of course. Her muse has been suspended from SH duty and punished for ever letting things get this far - she'll be doing six months hard labor over in the Twilight fandom-"**

"Twilight?"

**"Oh yes. Nothing like inspiring fourteen year old girls to write about twinkling vampires to teach you a stern lesson or two. Perhaps we were a bit hard on her, but you know, Incorporeals need strong discipline. And it will be a good example for the others."**

"I think I need a drink."

**"Here you are, doctor. Scotch, isn't it?"**

"How did you do that?"

**"I told you. I'm a muse. A Meta-Muse, to be specific."**


	8. Chapter 8

"Come again?"

**"Meta-Muse. Look, it's all a bit difficult to explain. We're sort of...constables of the Imaginations. It's our job to keep an eye on things and make sure incidents like this don't happen-"**

"You're a penguin."

**"Yes well, the dangers of a cracked! meme. You ask for a tuxedo..."**

"What of the woman who put us here?"

**"Oh, she's all right. We gave her subconscious a good talking to, and it's promised to behave in the future."**

"You mean you let her go free, unpunished?"

**"Well really detective, there's no need to overreact. It's not as though she were planning a death!fic. She simply wanted to see you two together in a loving and supportive relationship-"**

"A loving-my God man, we came very near to molesting one another!"

**Yes, we do apologize about that. It'd have been better had she chosen two of you from a more compatible genre."**

"Genre?"

**"Yes. You see, you're both what's known in the industry as action/adventure templates - quite a pair rough and tumble lads, from what I understand - but your subbing for a slash fic-"**

"Slash?"

**"Yes. Homoerotic romanticism. It's actually quite popular."**

"Is it."

**"Oh indeed, that's the whole problem! You see, we generally keep quite a few Holmes/Watson slash templates on hand, but the explosion of the kink meme used up a number of our reserves, and what with all the scheduled time off for various honeymoons-"**

"Honeymoons?!"

**"Well, everyone likes a happy ending, don't they doctor? It's a staple of slash fiction. Anyway, as I was saying, what with increased demand and diminished supply I'm afraid we ran rather short, and this particular author-"**

"Abducted us."

**"I suppose you could look at it that way yes. But really, we made every effort to find you."**

"For four days."

**"Well, she was quite clever. No one thought to look for you in a cupboard. But then there was an unauthorized explosion in one of the supposedly blank pages and we knew it had to be you."**

"So what now?"

**"Well, now we send you back of course. And not a moment too soon. You were both pulled out at rather critical moments in your plot lines, and our communication lines have been jammed with upset readers. The meta-server's crashed twice already under the onslaught of angry thought mail..."**

"Holmes, is any of this making the slightest bit of sense to you?"

"It would seem our anonymous captor has interfered in the natural course of events destined to take place in our lives by plucking us from our individual stories like salmon from a stream, and this - gentleman - is here to throw us back."

**"I couldn't have said it better myself."**

"Hmm...I see. Might I have another drink?"

**"I'm afraid there's no time. We really must be getting you back. Don't worry, these pages will be deleted and the files destroyed, so you shouldn't remember a thing. Now, for a recap: detective, your Watson has just been shot, and is bleeding rather profusely. Or will do, once we fish him out of the pub-**

"The pub?"

**"Oh indeed. Obviously with you missing the rest of the cast was put on hiatus, so your doctor and his assailant decided to knock back a few rounds while they waited for you-"**

"It's been four days!"

**"Yes, well. He _is_ Scottish. Anyway: Shot. Bleeding. Quite possibly fatal. Don't worry, he's an old hand at dying; a veteran of the hurt/comfort genre. Died seven times in the last three months alone."**

"I what?!"

**"Three shootings, two stabbings, an exsanguination via torture and one drowning. And as for you doctor, I believe you were in the middle of a daring rescue, as your Holmes had been captured by Lord Blackwood and taken to his underground lair-"**

"Underground lair?"

**"We're not here to judge, detective. But as I was saying, doctor, your Holmes has been kidnapped by Lord Blackwood and, well. Best not discuss what they've got up to. Seems they've worked together before. Gotten to know each other quite well, I should think...anyway, be prepared to play dashing hero, yes? I believe the author has quite a physically impossible sword fight planned for you, so naturally you'll need to be in top form."**

"Just one more question, Sal."

**"Ask away, doctor."**

"Our counterparts; were they on a honeymoon as well? Is that why they canceled?"

**"Oh no, no, nothing like that."**

"Thank goodness."

**"It was maternity leave. Come along now..."**


End file.
